


ever after

by jessamoo



Category: Reign (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 10:34:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2504711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessamoo/pseuds/jessamoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>cinderella au</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“The king spilt wine all over the floor again. So don’t take that apron of just yet, because you’ll be cleaning it up.”

The plump old kitchen mistress, Mrs Snow, barked at Kenna cruelly as she washed dishes. Her arms ached and her fingers were already red raw. Cleaning up the wine would make her night even longer and she was already desperately tired.

But she knew she couldn’t say no. Most of the other servants had already been allowed to go, but Kenna had been left with a mountain of work simply out of spite. She knew if she refused though her life would be made even more miserable by the iron fisted Mrs Snow.

Kenna’s shoulder slumped and she dried her hands, her superior shooing her up the stairs almost before she could grab a bucket and brush. When she saw Kenna’s glum look, she sneered at her with no sympathy.

“Don’t give me any attitude! Or you will be dismissed, and your royal friends won’t lift a finger to help you, I can promise you that, my little lady.”

As Kenna left her in the kitchens she grimaced at her nickname.

 

The princess Mary had taken a liking to her one day when she had taken up some food for her. She had been with her ladies, a gaggle of beautiful girls, all bright and shining like diamonds. Kenna had been wary until Mary had sent her that beautiful, welcoming smile.

The girls had somehow become almost friends to her. She was called upstairs far more often now. Mary would have her bring her food up most nights, she had once even called her in to ask her opinion on a dress. Kenna wasn’t used to having the people she served treat her with any respect, if they noticed her at all, and she yearned to be up there with them, in the light.

Noticing how much attention Mary and her ladies were giving her, the other servants had taken to calling her ‘Lady’, in a cruel mockery. They were jealous she knew, and thought she was raising herself above her station, where she didn’t belong, and where they could never be.

 

Kenna didn’t think she was better than them. Kinder, perhaps. But not better in the way they assumed she did. She didn’t think she was on the same level as the people she served, she just wanted more from life. She had dared to dream of things she knew could never be, as the other servants dutifully accepted their fates.

She didn’t care about money or duels or having a rich husband who she didn’t love. She just wanted to be free. Free to not have to worry about rules, about being punished or ridiculed. Free to fall in love with who she wanted, not just someone who could give her family a little more than they had, which wasn’t very much.

 

Kenna went out to the pump outside to fill her bucket up. Hefting it onto her arm to carry it a little better, she heard a scuffle behind her.

She shrieked loudly, spinning around – the old wooden bucket crashing against the floor loudly.

“Sorry!” she hears a voice call. She realises it’s coming from the nearby stable and moves forward fearfully.

The door opens and she jumps back, watching in worried confusion as a young man steps out sheepishly.

“One of the horses spooked. Didn’t mean to frighten you.” he smiles in a friendly way and she relaxes just a little.

Kenna looks him up and down, tucking her hair behind her ear. He looks familiar, though she hasn’t seen him in the stables before. In her inspection she realises he can’t possibly work in there – his clothes are too fine. His trousers were obviously fine leather that were not dulled or cracked and his shirt was too white. Too clean. She looked at his face – blushing at his handsome dark features, and when he steps toward her congenially her wide eyes meet his.

Then she flings her gaze back down, smoothing her apron down on her simple brown dress, a furious blush creeping up her skin.

Because when head looked into those eyes she had known who he was in an instant. Lively luminous green – impossible green. The kind of green you imagine coated the Garden of Eden. There was no mistaking those eyes – this was Sebastian, Bash, the king’s son. The girls in the kitchens whispered about him, how good looking he was, how his eyes were bright and kind, how they longed for him to fix them with a piercing look of love.

“Your – I didn’t realise who – I’m – “ Kenna stumbles over her words embarrassingly.

 

She was used to attention from men, even as a serving girl. She was pretty and she had known it her whole life and it hadn’t done her any good. Last year she had had to swing a frying pan at the cook when he had drunkenly groped at her. Other boys that worked in the castle didn’t particularly interest her so far. She was cool and aloof with them, it seemed to come easily with her. She was intelligent and quick witted.

She hadn’t ever reacted to a good looking man like she was doing now though. She knew the king had wandering hands and was never confronted about it. From his easy manner she did not think Bash was like that, but she knew she still shouldn’t test him. She knew her place in the pecking order. This wasn’t a skinny serving boy for her to flick her hair at. She had to remember despite his friendliness that she was just a servant to him.

 

She leans down quickly, not looking him in the eyes, reaching for the bucket she had dropped.

“Here, let me help you.” she hears him say casually.

He leans down at the same time as her and their fingers connect as they reach for the bucket. Kenna pulls her hand back immediately like he had burned her.

She straightens away from him, standing still as he holds the bucket out to her. He seems to notice her wariness, and respectfully keeps a distance from her, making sure not to touch her when she takes it from him.

“What’s your name?” he asks her with a small, encouraging smile.

She glances up from under her eyelashes. She knows she should answer him as she would answer anyone of a higher status than her. But she finds herself calming down as she looks at him. She narrows her eyes at him suspiciously.

“Why?”

Bash grins at her, to her surprise. “Alright. You don’t have to tell me. Let’s try another question. What job could you possibly need water for at this god forsaken hour?”

“The king…he spilled his wine.” She mumbles.

Bash nods knowingly. “I’m afraid you have me to blame for that.”

She raises her eyebrows at him questioningly, hugging the bucket closer to her like it can protect her against something. Maybe against the small tell-tale butterflies growing in her stomach as she relaxes around him.

Seeing her questioning look he glances sadly away for a moment before explaining. “People here say my father favours me…and that’s true a lot of the time I suppose. Just not so much when he gets drunk. I don’t know if you know this, but he has a bit of a temper, my father…it’s my own fault really. I goaded him into it.”

Kenna sees the sadness of the memory suddenly weighing his strong shoulders down. “Into what?” she asks quietly without thinking.

She doesn’t think he’s going to answer, but he taps his foot, considering, and seems to decide he trusts her. “He likes a fight, my father.” Is all he says, but as his fists clench at his sides, she sees small bruises on his knuckles. “That’s why I like it out here with the horses. They’re good, and loyal. And they don’t see me as a bastard…that’s the good thing about animals. They just see you as the person you are, in whatever way they understand that.”

Kenna nods, understanding him. She knew what it was to be looked down upon for the circumstances of her birth. 

She doesn’t know why, but she suddenly feels that she trusts Bash. She doesn’t know him, but she feels a sadness in him, and a kindness. They were talking easily to each other now, and she forgets the rules, forgets they are from completely different classes. Usually she was utterly practical, if not something of a romantic, and she knew better than to forget what the world saw her as. But here in the dark with this man she felt for once like herself. Trusted, seen to be good, and seen as a person for once.

“Kenna.” She bursts out suddenly. “Um, my name. My name is Kenna.” She smiles shyly. She supposes its some kind of test maybe. She wants to trust him, so she entrusts him with her name. Names could always be used against you, but she knew somehow, deep in the bones of her, that he would simply accept it.

“That’s a lovely name.” he smiles. What was that smile? Was that flirtation?

She finds herself smiling back at him regardless.

“I think that because I caused him to spill his wine, I ought to help you clean up…Kenna.” Something in the way he said her name made her understand that he was testing it out on his tongue. He was considering it like he could taste it in his mouth. He smiles when he says her name and she finds those little butterflies getting a little faster.

She’s about to protest when he plucks the bucket easily from her arms before she can react and starts inside, taking long confident strides so she has to jog a little to keep up with him.

 

The idea of the son of the king – bastard or not – helping her scrub wine off the floor on his hands and knees was utterly ridiculous to her. 

And yet it was happening all the same. 

Bash was leaning down on the floor like she was, scrubbing the soapy water on the blood red wine staining the marble. It hurt her knees and made her arms ache, but he made her forget about all that for once. He even made it fun.

They would laugh and talk and complain. He would flick soap suds at her and she would laugh, dodging them with a squeal. 

She thought to herself that if every day were like this then life in the kitchens might not be so bad. But a traitorous whisper in the back of her head hissed that life could never be this way. She probably would never have this with him again and it was best not to wish for it.

But when he grinned up at her jokingly, dramatically sighing like the scrubbing was the most arduous task in the world, watching her laugh with light dancing in her eyes, she shushed that voice of reason.

They sat next to each other in the throne room, leaning against the steps when they had finished. And they talked. They talked for hours. She told him about how she had come to work here, and what that was like. She did a scathing impression of grumpy old Mrs Snow that left him in fits of laughter. He told her about his family and how much he loved his brother. They talked about Mary and what a fine queen she would make. 

People in the kitchens had gossiped about how Bash had been getting very close to his brother’s intended. But she saw nothing of that in him now. There was fondness in his tone to be sure, but she thought it was just friendly. He would look up at her and she would see something deeper in his gaze, something she couldn’t define. His eyes were warm and affectionate.

But as the sun came up, it fractured against the thrones behind them, casting their ominous shadows over the floor. The darkness crept over her, a morbid reminder of exactly who she was.

And who she wasn’t.

 

The next day was busy – chaos reigned in the kitchens and even Mrs Snow was too distracted to be all that horrible to her. They were preparing for the huge masquerade ball being thrown at the castle that night. Kenna had forgotten all about it when she stayed up with Bash, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to regret how she had spent her night.

She did however give her a scathing look when Kenna was summoned upstairs by Mary. Kenna would normally have slunk off apologetically under Mrs Snow’s reproachful glare.

But something was different with her now. She was tired from being up all night but it wasn’t that. It was the way Bash had treated her like an equal when he didn’t need too. 

Something about that memory made her square her shoulders and lift her head up high, staring right in Mrs Snow’s eyes as she passed.

 

Mary squealed in excitement when she came in and rushed forward to grab her hand, pulling her further into the room.

“What can I do for you, your highness?” Kenna asks slowly in confusion.

Mary scoffs and rolls her eyes as Greer and Lola enter from another door carrying something between them.

“I’ve told you before you can call me Mary.” She smiles and nods toward the bed where her ladies had carefully laid their load. “Go on. It’s for you.”

“For me?” she echoes in shock and all the other girls clap and grin excitedly.

Mary gives her an encouraging nod and she starts slowly toward where she had motioned.

“You’ve been very good to me Kenna. Over the last few months, which haven’t been the easiest, you seem to have taken care of me. And I want you to know I have noticed that. So this is my gift to you…for being my friend.” Mary finishes tenderly.

In shocked silence, Kenna reaches the bed and unwraps the tissue holding her gift.

 

And when she sees the familiar fabric, her breath hitches in her throat. She remembers Mary wanting her opinion on a dress and everything seems to suddenly make sense.

For here was that same dress, gift wrapped for her.

Long and pristine white, skirt was a huge chiffon and was light as a breeze. The top was a corset with and with no sleeves, Kenna could already see where it would hug to her figure and accentuate her breasts. That wasn’t the best part though, nor the skirt. No, the best part was the tiny pears sewn into the dress all over. They fell down the dress like a sparkling waterfall.

This was the dress for a mermaid, for a fairy. No, this was the dress for a queen, and she was suddenly reminded of that when she reached her hands out to touch it and saw how rough and worn her fingers were compared to the fine expensive material. She balls her fingers up hesitantly.

“We had to guess your size, but I think it will fit.” Lola smiles at her kindly, seeing her hesitation and trying to encourage her.

“Why…” Kenna trails off, turning to look at them all emotionally.

Greer grins playfully and pulls her hand from behind her back, holding a mask up to her face. It’s a simple white mask, but something in its minimalism makes it all the more beautiful.

“You are going to the ball, Kenna.” Mary smiles.

Despite the shock of it all, Kenna turns back to her dress with a smile. Suddenly, despite her better judgement, she longs to wear the dress. Longs to float around in it and be carefree for once. She longs to live her impossible dreams, just for one night. Dance with a boy and feel how it really was to be served.

And so, knowing it could all go wrong, she agrees.


	2. Chapter 2

Mary and the others had planned it all out. The kitchen staff would think Kenna was serving for the night and in the din of the ball, no one would miss a single serving girl. As long as she got back to the kitchens before the end to clean up no one would ever know.

It was unbelievably risky she knew, but she let herself get caught up in the excitement of it. The dress was so beautiful and she couldn’t help but want everything the girls had done for her.

 

She escaped from the kitchens early, giving the excuse of having to help Mary dress – but in reality it was the other way around. The girls did her corset up – she hadn’t really worn one like this before, and never so tight, but she forced her back up and tried to get used to it. When she twirled around happily in the dress all the others clapped delightedly.

“You look beautiful Kenna.” Lola beams.

“You really do.” Greer agrees. “It’s such a shame you have to wear a mask. No one’s going to be able to see how pretty you look.”

“I will.” Kenna breathes happily.

Mary turns her to the mirror so she can look at herself properly.

She looks like an angel. The long flowing dress that hugged her figure and exposed her elegant shoulders. The way they had curled her hair on top of her head like a halo. The makeup they had smudged across her cheeks and eyes bringing out all her best features, the colour and fire in her eyes.

Mary moves off for a moment to where her jewellery was laid out. Her breath hitches in awe – and because of the corset squeezing at her ribs – when Mary ceremoniously places a long, thin golden head band into her hair. It is encrusted with tiny sparking diamonds. 

It made Kenna look like a princess. And tonight she might be able to forget she wasn’t one.

“One things missing though.”

Lola excitedly brings her a box which she rifles through, unfolding the tissue. Inside she sees a pair of transparent, gleaming slippers. Glass slippers, to be exact. They looked expensive and strange, but beautiful. Like something out of a fairy tale.

Kenna slipped them onto her feet and found them surprisingly comfortable.

 

She thinks about the nickname the staff gave her, lady, and smiles smugly.

If only they saw her now.

 

Her breathing is heavy and nervous as she enters the ball room, narrowly avoiding bumping into people as she took in the spectacle.

Huge and ornate decorations, garlands, hung everywhere, and a huge happy crowd danced.

She looks around at the front of the room.

Henry is sat lounging on his throne grinning at the chaos in front of him. Catherine is sat next to him looking bored. Through the haze of people she sees Mary and Francis dancing happily together.

And then, as her eyes land on the person she had truly been searching for, thousands of white petals float down from the ceiling like rain. Through the dancing white, she looks right at Bash, caught in the sudden romantic moment of it.

But his eyes glaze right past her, surveying the room. He didn’t recognise her. Kenna adjusts her mask self-consciously, feeling embarrassed and a little disappointed. 

She moves further into the room, thinking maybe if she approaches Bash quietly that she would be able to reveal to him who she was. As she gets closer to him she sees that he is examining the faces of the servants individually with a frown on his face.

She is just about to lift a hand to wave to him when a drunken nobleman stumbles into her, knocking her to the side a little. She sidesteps him clumsily but by the time she looks up again she sees Bash leaving the hall by the far door, apparently dissatisfied by his scrutiny of the servants.

 

Then suddenly people start turning to look at her. She steps back, scared, feeling that her mask was still in place.

Then she sees.

The crowd was parting for their king.

Heart hammering she watches the king approach her. Barely remembering she bows at the last second. She feels tears pricking her eyes at her fear.

Henry’s hand reaches out and picks her chin up gently with two fingers. Kenna stops breathing for a moment, terrified. Everyone is staring at her and she is regretting taking part in any of this.

“I always take the effort to dance with the most beautiful woman in the room.” He smiles, speaking loudly. “And you my lady, are surely that.”

Kenna doesn’t see how he could possibly know this as she had her mask on, but as he leans closer she knows from the haze in his eyes that he has been drinking. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Queen Catherine rolling her eyes and his mistress, Diane de Poitiers, Bash’s mother, folding her arms crossly.

Kenna wants to make an excuse and run away but no words come out and Henry grabs her roughly by the waist as the music starts up again.

He’s pushing her against him uncomfortably and she can’t remove herself. She sees Mary looking at her worriedly, clearly not knowing how to help her.

And so henry takes her hand, leading her in a dance, and she had no choice but to follow.

Kenna lets him pull her around, searching all the while for an exit or someone to come and help her. If the king ordered her to remove her mask everything would be finished. She would mostly likely lose her job and she didn’t even want to think what would come after that. She feels sick at the thought.

Henry’s hands travel over her hungrily and she grimaces. She thinks of how Bash had made sure not to touch her without her permission and wishes Henry had been taught the same.

“Who are you?” he breathes. “Some kind of spectre? A fairy perhaps? A nymph?”

Kenna remembers the stories of his madness and wonders if that’s what this is.

She clears her throat hesitantly and says “When we wear masks, we can be anything.”

To her surprise Henry laughs loudly. “Quite true. I wonder if you are as fair under that mask as you are in it.”

“That would spoil the illusion.” She replies quickly, desperately hoping he didn’t carry on this track.

“Or break the curse.” Henry retorts with a grin. 

“What makes you think I’m cursed?”

“Well perhaps you aren’t. Perhaps you yourself are a curse, sent upon me to torment me. Torment because I cannot look upon your face.”

Kenna smiles. She doesn’t know why. Not at him – she wants him to leave her alone. But at the absurdity of it. Yesterday she was a serving girl who also worked in the kitchens. Now she was dancing with the king, though she wished it were his son instead.

“Haven’t you heard what happens to men when they gaze upon a goddess?” she asks casually. In a lighter tone she finishes “They get turned into dogs.”

Henry laughs uproariously again. “Is that what I am to call you then? Artemis, our goddess of the hunt.”

Kenna laughs unconvincingly as Henry is distracted by something behind him.

 

Kenna sees her opportunity and darts away from him before he realises, disappearing into the crowd. Hearing him call after her she races through the nearest doorway, not even thinking about how it was the same one Bash had used earlier.

At least she doesn’t remember until she crashes right into him.

Kenna leaps back at his cry, being sure to hold her mask to her face.

 

In her haste she hadn’t even noticed him. She had flown through the corridor to the nearest exit, flying down a set of stairs. Her hair was all a mess and her heart was pounding. She’d even lost a shoe at some point as well. She was just glad to be out of there, out from the king’s clutches where she might be discovered.

In her sudden rush of adrenaline she yelps when she bumps into Bash and pushes away from him angrily. She doesn’t know whether she is angry at him, the king or herself for believing that this night could be her one good thing.

“What do you think you’re doing out here, lurking in the shadows?” she snapped shakily without thinking.

“Getting ambushed by a crazy girl, apparently.” He retorts.

 

Kenna slowed her breathing and looked around. It was dark outside, and she had flown down a small set of stone steps outside. It was a back entrance that not many people used. Bash had obviously been lounging by the bottom step when she had barged into him.

“Really. You’re the son of the king. Why are you loitering out here?” she asks, really wanting to know the answer. He had left the ball quickly and she wondered why.

She could see on his face that he doesn’t recognise her and for some reason it doesn’t fill her with disappointment like it had before. Suddenly she thinks that she had been right, that behind a mask you could be anyone. And that’s how she feels now. Like she can talk to him and ask him what she might have been afraid to had he thought her a servant.

“I was not loitering.” He replies emphatically. “I simply wanted some fresh air.” He adds coolly.

“You don’t like parties?” She asks in a cool tone, not believing him.

“I don’t like being confronted with the notion that I feel completely alone in a room full of people.” He mutters, seeming to forget that to him she was a complete stranger.

“Well that’s depressing.” She shrugs nonchalantly. “Are you out here pouting because no one asked you to dance?” she asks in a mocking tone.

Bash glowers at her but he doesn’t seem offended. “The only woman I want to dance with is someone I can’t want.”

Kenna is surprised at this. A part of her dares to hope he means her…but then she remembers how the staff had talked for his feelings for Mary.

She sees the way he’d been looking around at the servants. She had thought he’d been looking for her, but perhaps he was just avoiding staring at Mary with his brother.

She had been foolish. Totally foolish. She had thought she could come to the ball and have fun. She thought she could forget who she was for the night. But the mask designed to hide it only highlighted it to her now. And Bash – she had thought after the way they had talked that they had a connection. But that could have been all in her head, excitement because the son of the King had deigned to talk to her. She grimaces against the memory of the king’s hands on her body and all her illusions of the night shatter painfully. She sees it for what it was – a farce, a lie. A pathetic attempt at playing dress up.

“Why don’t you just tell this girl you want her instead of moping around out here?” Kenna snaps, emotion clouding her voice. For some reason she felt betrayed by him, even though it was her own folly that lead her to this.

“Why do you ask so many questions about things that aren’t your business?” he fires back pointedly.

“You brought it up first.” She hisses stepping closer to him.

“That was a mistake.” He breathes, stepping to meet her so their faces are inching apart. “All you noble girls are the same. All just searching for something to gossip about.”  
“Well maybe if you weren’t so pathetic they wouldn’t need to gossip about you.” 

Bash frowns at her words. She blushes in anger at herself when she realises she had said they instead of we. She had been trying to convince herself she was one of them for a night, but had unable to do so when it came down to it.

But if she was honest, she no longer really wanted to be one of them. She still longed for a life outside the kitchens. But she didn’t want it if it meant pandering to a mad king, not being able to help the women he preyed upon, not being allowed to respect the servants properly.

She sees a small flicker of something cross his face. Something almost like recognition.

But before she can say anything she steps back from him clumsily and turns to run hastily away.

 

The next day the kitchen is abuzz with gossip about the ball. Who danced with who and for how long, who got drunk, who didn’t. But the most talked of topic was the mysterious girl in white that had so captured the attention of the king.

Kenna avoided talking to anyone. She kept her head down in silence whenever the topic came up. She had hastily shoved the dress and mask into the hiding place she and Mary had agreed upon and that morning when she had taken her food up, she had seen it hidden away in the corner of the princesses room. Kenna had avoided Mary’s questions with mumbled replies of little consequence before getting out of there.

She felt guilty, she didn’t want Mary to think she wasn’t grateful for what she had tried to do for her. But it had been a wasted effort. The night had gone wrong and she had been exposed to what it was really like up there. It was just as dark and cruel as down here, only they hid it underneath velvet and rose petals.

 

Sometime later, Mrs Snow ran in, clapping for their attention.

“Hurry, hurry all of you. Look presentable! His majesty is on his way.” She screeched at them all.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and stood to attention. Kenna felt her heart leap into her throat. She was terrified that someone had recognised her and this was it. She was done. She couldn’t believe that even if Bash had recognised her he would give her away – but why else was the King coming down here? He had never been down here before.

Kenna watched worriedly as Henry stomped his way down the steps and into the kitchen. His huge bulk seemed to dominate the room as everyone glanced at their feet respectfully and fearfully.

To her surprise he is followed closely by a rather grave looking Bash. Kenna catches his eye as he gazes around the room. When Bash sees her his eyes light up and he is momentarily distracted. His lips part just a little like he wants to speak to her, but he thinks better of it, instead sending her the tiniest of smiles.

“We are searching.” Henry booms ceremoniously. “For a girl. Artemis in a white dress.” He smiles, but doesn’t seem to mean it, as he sighs loudly. “We have been searching for her at court all day…for I want her to be my mistress.”

Kenna feels her stomach churn at his words, and she sees Bash staring stonily at the floor, obviously not enjoying any part of this. And as she looks at him she notices for the first time he is holding something in his hand.

It is the shoe that she lost. Fine thin glass shaped to her dainty feet.

She was done for. She was sure many women wanted to be mistress to the king, simply for how much it would give them. But she couldn’t even think of it. She would work in here her whole life without complaint if it meant she didn’t have to have the wolfish Henry on top of her.

“And since we cannot find my goddess amongst the women at court, I thought why not scrape the bottom of the barrel and look for her down here?” Henry drawls cruelly.

He motions to Bash who steps forward with the shoe. Kenna feels dizzy, fisting her hands by her side.

The women all try the shoe on in turn, Bash placing it on their feet with an apologetic look. But of course it fits none of them.

Then she is the only one left. She feels tears filling her eyes as Bash approaches her. He must see something on her face because he hesitates slightly.

She shakes her head imperceptibly at him, fear stricken face warning him in a last effort to save herself from Henry.

He must see it. Just as she felt he saw her when they first met. He sees her warning him away. She sees Bash’s fingers tighten on the shoe as he understands. She has told him now. She was the one they were looking for, the one who he had talked to that night. His eyes flicker in recognition and she wonders what he’s going to do.

And then, as he steps forward, Bash sets his lips harshly and stumbles slightly. 

And as if in slow motion, she sees him let go of the shoe. As it crashes into a million pieces on the floor, he locks eyes with her and she knows he’s done it on purpose.  
Henry rages at him, starts to drag him away. But Bash and Kenna just stare at each other as he leaves.

 

Kenna is in Mary’s room later that night, clearing the plates.

She had been thinking about Bash since the kitchen that morning. He had saved her. He had known it was her and chosen to save her, even knowing he would face his father’s cruel wrath for it.

She knew they couldn’t ever be together and was convinced he was still infatuated with Mary, but she would be forever grateful to him. He was kind she knew. He wouldn’t help force someone into his father’s bed against their will.

The door closes as someone enters and she looks up, expecting to see Mary but is instead confronted by Bash. She sees a small cut on his lip and crashes the plate down onto the table again, forgetting herself and rushing over to him.

“Bash! Are you alright?” she cries, reaching a hand up to try and gently touch his face. She doesn’t know what makes her, but the sudden rush of emotion seeing after everything that had happened over the last few days made her think of nothing else.

Bash takes old of her hand gently squeezing it in his. This is the first time they have really touched after their fingers brushed on that first night and she feels like it’s instantly familiar.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” He smiles softly at her. “I’m sorry about my father.”

Kenna shakes her head backing away from him a little but he pulls her back easily. “I mean it.” He says. “He became obsessed with a girl when he hadn’t even seen her face.”

Then to her surprise he trails a gentle finger down her cheek and she finds herself smiling up at him.

“And what a beautiful face it is.” He murmurs.

Kenna believes him. She sees the truth of it shining in his big green eyes, but she still finds herself biting her lip and asking “You aren’t angry with me? For all the things I said at the ball?”

Bash shakes his head. “No. I’m sorry myself. I thought you were a stranger and I was rude to you because of my own feelings.” He shrugs. “I try not to be like that.”

She glances down when he mentions his feelings, remembering how happy Mary had been dancing with Francis. “That’s alright. I understand it must be difficult for you, seeing someone you care about and not being able to approach her.”

Bash shakes his head. “You have no idea. To be honest when I was looking for you in the hall I didn’t know what I would do if I found you. I knew I couldn’t just go up to you and ask you to dance with me. But then I didn’t see you anywhere and I felt this loneliness well up in me, like I had lost my only friend.”

Kenna frowns up at him in confusion. He had been looking for her? So she had been right about him searching the servants? Did this mean…did he care for her, and not Mary? This was impossible. But at the same time it wasn’t. After that first night in the throne room she felt inexplicably tied to him.

But she knew they couldn’t be together. There was no way he could marry a commoner like her and she didn’t know if he would be the type of man to take a mistress or if she was the type of girl to be one.

“but I might have thought of a way round that, should you accept…should you want to…that is to say if you feel as I do that there is something between us.”

She did, she really did. But she can’t say anything, terrified of what he would ask of her. She just looks up at him warily.

“Mary thinks of you as a friend. And when I told her about our…relationship, she agreed to my implement my suggestion. That you might be raised up to be one of her ladies, like Lola and Greer.”

Kenna beams a tearful smile up at him. That is what she wanted. Not to be a mistress, just to be a friend. Just to be equal. She nods at him before asking. “Why would you do this for me?” in a whisper.

Bash grins at her, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “All my life I wanted to meet someone like you. Clever and kind who I could be myself with. And I did, and I haven’t stopped thinking about you for days. And this way, we can carry on. I wouldn’t ask you for anything, or expect anything. You would never be in my debt. We would simply be able to get to know each other better.”

“I think…I think that sounds amazing.” Kenna breathes excitedly.

Bash smiles at her, genuinely happy, stepping back to kiss her hand with a bow.

“Then it is nice to meet you, Lady Kenna.”


End file.
